


So I Don't Let Me Down

by Saraellen10



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 5x03, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Heartbreak, Jughead Jones Needs a Hug, Missing Scene, One Shot, Please Don't Hate Me, they talk before
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:48:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29269755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saraellen10/pseuds/Saraellen10
Summary: “We need to go somewhere neutral,” he says, cutting through the staleness of their shared bedroom.Betty shuts the book she was reading, looking up at him startled,“What?”Jughead leans forward,“We can’t talk here.” He states it as if it should be obvious,orJughead and Betty talk about the kiss, before breaking up and going their separate ways.Short little one-shot. It's angsty, sorry.
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	So I Don't Let Me Down

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the song 'So I Don't Let Me Down' by Clinton Kane. 
> 
> Please let me know what you think!

_Got no time to be overthinking_

_Can the thoughts in my head be the demons_

_That wanna drive me away from believing_

_In the things that I was so sure of_

\--

“We need to go somewhere neutral,” he says, cutting through the staleness of their shared bedroom. 

Betty shuts the book she was reading, looking up at him startled,

“What?”

Jughead leans forward,

“We can’t talk here.” He states it as if it should be obvious,

“So you’re ready to talk?” It had been a month since she came clean to him. A month full of agonizing awkwardness, some nights she didn’t even come up to bed. 

They weren’t even broken up. At least she doesn’t think they are. Lately, she has been confused more than anything. What were they? It’s not like she could just ask him. He needed space. It was all so so...so weird. Weird is ironically the only way she can describe it. 

It was weird that they were walking on eggshells around each other, weird that she has read three books in the past two weeks and hasn’t had a single conversation with him about it, weird that she hasn’t touched him, felt his hands on her in ages, weird that she doesn’t even recognize him sometimes. It was just weird. 

“Yeah I think so,” he interrupts her thoughts.

“But we shouldn’t talk here..or Pop’s.”

Betty looks at him dumbfounded. 

“It’s a conflict strategy. Basically, if we talk in a shared space, we won’t have anywhere after to ‘cool off.’ But if we do this somewhere else, you can come back here and I can go to Pop’s.” 

“Wow.” She can hardly believe what she’s hearing, “You really think it’s going to be that bad? That we can’t even be in the same room together?”

“Honestly, Betty, I don’t know what to think anymore.” 

_Touché._

“Okay...I guess we could go to the Blue and Gold? I still have some files to clean out anyway.”

He gets up and slides his laptop into its case. Betty assumes that’s a confirmation. Their relationship’s newly found silence guides them to the Blue and Gold.

\--

The Blue and Gold was practically empty. Long gone were the remnants of their late-night murder boards, research sessions, and the couch looked void of human contact. 

Jughead sat down at his desk and Betty across from him. It was like old times, she almost thinks. Almost. 

She waits for him to speak, but he doesn’t. He just stares at her as if she’s supposed to know what to say. Too bad there’s no handbooks for how to apologize for breaking the love of your life’s heart. And it’s _really_ too bad that their ability to communicate has seemingly slipped away along with the last bit of their borrowed time. 

  
  


“If you want to yell at me, just do it. I can handle it; I deserve it” she says.

“I know. I don’t want to. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” an annoyingly smug smile pulls at the corner of his mouth. He knows he’s being an ass, but he feels entitled to it for once. 

He leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest, 

“Why, why did you do it?”

Betty takes a deep breath, and her shoulders fall, 

“I-I don’t know. There was so much going on. We had just fought, and I wasn’t thinking straight...Archie was just kind of there. I just wanted to feel nostalgic, I guess.”

Jughead raises an eyebrow and scoffs,

“Really? That’s what you’re going with? Not to play the I almost died card, but I almost died. And yet I managed to refrain from cheating on you.”

Betty feels anger rise and her face grows flushed; why was he being so mean? 

“You know, Jughead, you are the one person in this godforsaken world that can accept me not being perfect.”

She pauses to collect herself, but Jughead’s biting tone cuts her off, 

“Hey, Betty? Could you cut the tortured romantic one-liners? I think we’re a little past that-”

“I’m not you, Jughead! God, when are you going to get that? I’m not perfect, and I’m not you. I didn’t have a rough childhood or go through nearly as many hardships as you. I know that... But I still have gone through some things, some awful, horrible things. Sorry if I can't process my trauma the way you have

Sorry, that when the one person who helped keep my demons at bay slipped away, the demons came crawling back. Funny how that works.”

Jughead runs his hand through his hair, still adjusting to the absence of his beanie, his sense of security. Which he threw away, thinking he no longer needed it. Thinking he had found something-someone better—what a shame.

He gets up and begins pacing, avoiding glancing in her direction. His eyes fall on the empty bookshelf behind him, and his back faces hers.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Why not right after it happened?”

“Because. Because it didn’t mean anything. Because it was stupid, beyond stupid. Because I didn’t want to lose you, and the tapes started showing up again. And then people were dying, the auteur was in the house, and then my brother turned out to be a serial killer-”

“No.” He turns around slamming his palms on the table,

“No. You don’t get to blame a fucking mystery. Betty, have you seen what the past three years of our lives have been like? There will always be some messed up shit imploding around us. There always has been. That’s what was so great about us. We were still honest with each other. Through it all. All of it.”

His voice wavers, losing all assertiveness,

“Betty. You didn’t tell me when it happened because it meant something to you. And-I-I don’t want to know. I don’t want to hear some shitty excuse. I don’t want to watch you crumble in a pool of tears. That’s not fair.”

She wipes her face with the sleeve of her sweater. Stifling a sniffle. Jughead walks over next to her chair, staring into her,

“It’s not fair. It’s not fair how unbearable it is right now to see you cry. I still love you, Betty, and I don’t think I can ever stop. But, god, Betty, what does that say about me?”

Betty stands up to cup his cheek, “Jug-”

He steps back, allowing her hand to fall,

“You hurt me more than anything that has ever happened to me. Up until a month ago, I thought I knew what heartache was. That my family abandoning me, my mom being a drug dealer, being homeless, being on my deathbed twice was enough to familiarize me with the concept of pain.”

She can hardly look at him.

“So the fact that the only thing I want to do right now is pull you into my arms...shows how little self-respect I have for myself. And that. That’s what true pain is, Betty.”

They stand there like that for a while. Both a mess. How did they get here, they wonder. Jughead can’t take it anymore, and starts to walk out. Not before noticing the newspaper lying on the corner of the table. The headline reads _Dilton Doiley and Troops Revealed to be at Sweetwater River the morning of Jason Blossom’s murder_. 

It was the first article they had ever written together. 

It’s enough to stop him momentarily. It’s enough to get him to turn around and face the blonde one last time. It’s enough for him to go to her, cradle her face in his hands and kiss her. Their lips crash into each other; it stings from the salt of their tears. They move together, it’s electric. 

Until it’s over, and he’s out the door again. The newspaper is still on the table, and Betty can’t help but be glad that he suggested a neutral spot. 

\--

_Looking for a better way to deal with all the little changes_

_That keep freaking me out_

_Wouldn't hurt to figure out a better way of imitating_

_So I don't let me down_

_Sitting in the middle of a city with a million strangers_

_And it's getting so loud_

  
  



End file.
